Nigrum Dierum
by CaterinaBlack
Summary: Regulus Black is alive and well, and his daughter Lyra is off to Hogwarts at the same time as young Mr.Potter who Professor Snape plucks from the streets of London. Slytherin house is in for a surprise. AU.
1. Before Hogwarts

Chapter One

 _March 1979_

Regulus Arcturus Black took the locket from Kreacher grimly. He had been ill for days after Kreacher had dragged him out of the cave.

"Thank you Kreacher, you are to tell no one in the family about this and this locket must be destroyed. Go rest for now" he said somewhat dismissively, admiring Slytherin's locket for its history. His lips curled in disgust when he realized what had been done to it by a filthy half-blood. The Dark Lord was powerful, and not a man to be trifled with, but Regulus doubted that he gave one whit about blood purity and the continuation of magical society. He only cared about torturing and murdering muggles, something that Regulus found to be… distasteful.

As for muggle-borns… Regulus smirked as he thought of Venna. She was one of the brightest witches he had ever known, and she was willing to learn wizarding culture rather than trying to change it. He closed his eyes, basking in memories of her. His… liaisons with her were going to get him blasted off of the Black family tree, he was sure.

The thought of marrying a pureblood witch from British society was absolutely abhorrent. They were vain, glittering examples of inbreeding and general stupidity. After taking a good look at his family tree Regulus had recently decided that new blood could only do it some good and it was amazing that Sirius and himself were both, debatably sane.

In order for Venna to be safe the Dark Lord had to be destroyed… and Bellatrix had to be safely locked up. His parents might disown him for marrying Venna, but Bellatrix would torture her to death.

* * *

 _December 1985_

Lyra Black watched the muggle boys throw snow at each other from her place curled up on the window seat with her book- she looked up nervously as her mother and father's voices got louder.

"I need a son to continue the family line-" Regulus shouted.

"The family line? Ha! You married me and the only reason you weren't disowned is because your Grandfather realizes how bad it would make your family look after the war."

"Of course I married you" Regulus snapped. "And I didn't do it to fulfill some sort of political agenda, I did it because you were pregnant and-"

"You were trying to do right by me, I've heard this before" Venna snapped.

"Don't be ridiculous Venna. I did it because you were pregnant, and I knew that you could give me more children whose genes would be better from a dilution of inbreeding" said Regulus, and Lyra winced. That was the wrong answer.

"Marrying you was the worst mistake of my life! I should have married for love- no, don't touch me!" Venna shouted. "If you want a son than you will have to find someone else. I'm leaving you Regulus, and it's no more than you deserve, you filthy Death Eater!"

"Venna-"Regulus tried.

"You can keep the brat. I have no use for her, and besides, I've already packed and I only have one ticket. I'll send divorce papers from France." Venna finished, and with a distinct pop, she apparated away. The cottage was filled with an eerie silence.

A strange, queasy feeling filled Lyra's stomach as she realized her mother held no love for her, and had simply left without saying good bye. And then the silence was broken by sobs, and seven year old Lyra made her way down the stairs. Her father was kneeling on the floor, in front of the place where his wife had left him, sobbing brokenly into his hands.

Lyra knelt down beside him and embraced him as he sobbed. After a few minutes he pulled her into an embrace and she joined in him in crying.

* * *

Arcturus Black arrived at Black Corner Cottage three days later. Epsy let him into the house and he found his grandson in the kitchen working his way through a bottle of fire-whiskey. He didn't bother restraining himself from sneering as his grandson drank directly from the bottle.

"The heir to the house of Black drinking directly from the bottle. How very plebeian of you." He said, leaning on his cane.

Regulus looked up at his grandfather, took another sip from the bottle and spoke: "I was never supposed to be the heir grandfather, and perhaps you should have insisted that mother left Sirius alone."

"Perhaps, you both chose the wrong side in the end." He said.

Regulus snorted. "My brother was never a death eater. You are a fool to think that he ever was. Only the weak and foolish served the Dark Lord directly. No, it was Pettigrew who was a Death Eater, not Sirius. He was right to kill him, though I have some trouble believing him capable of killing a man he called a friend."

Arcturus looked surprised. "Do you think that he could be innocent?"

Regulus shrugged. "He could be. There was no trial. I found it surprising that Dumbledore didn't demand one for his pet, but I wonder if that would have interfered with his plan for the boy hero. It seems strange that he is still hidden away, the Death Eaters that would harm him are mostly locked away."

"Perhaps I will inquire as to why my grandson never received a trial." Arcturus mused aloud.

A ghost of a smile crossed Regulus' face. "If you are hoping to reform him, I wish you the best of luck, grandfather. Sirius is a Gryffindor, and not one for politics. He'll never be a proper heir to the house of Black."

Arcturus sneered at him. "You aren't either with your marriage to that-"

"She left me" Regulus cut him off bitterly. "I got divorce papers this morning."

Arcturus looked at the half empty bottle of fire-whisky on the table and the papers next to it. He sat at the table, looking around at the kitchen, which was clean but lacked the ostentatious wealth usually associated with the house of Black. He glanced at the divorce papers, which were fairly standard.

"I am surprised that she isn't trying to relieve you of a large sum of money." He said as he read them over.

Regulus' lips curled into a bitter sneer. "Only because she knows that she won't get it. I am not completely stupid, she signed a prenuptial agreement where if she did not provide me with a son she would get nothing if she left me."

"Speaking of children what is to become of your _… daughter_ " Arcturus managed to get out, though it was still a tough potion for him to swallow that a great-grandchild of his was a half-blood.

"She is _mine_ " Regulus hissed. "She will stay with me. Venna… is uninterested in sharing custody."

It was rare for Arcturus to show surprise. "She left the child?"

Regulus gave a curt nod. "She made it very clear that Lyra was unwanted by her. I wish she had not done so within earshot of the girl. It was unnecessarily cruel."

"You will need to remarry" Arcturus said. "And not a mudblood this time, a _proper_ witch. Your mother-"

The scowl on Regulus' face could peel paint. "My mother and I are not on speaking terms. I will not allow her to match me up with some prissy society witch. If I marry again I will do it on my own terms, to a witch of my choosing. I will marry for love."

"You are a fool, Blacks do not marry for love." Arcturus stated. "If you do not produce a son, or more than one, just to be safe, the Black name will die."

"Maybe it should." Regulus said. "If you are so concerned with the continuation of the family, than you had better get my brother out of prison because I'm not likely to produce an heir anytime soon."

Arcturus stood. "Your generation is cursed with fools and blood traitors with no concern for the future. Whatever did the house of Black do to deserve such a tragedy?"

"Probably several things, including marrying to closely" Regulus shouted as Arcturus swept out of the room.

* * *

 _January 1988_

Sirius Black looked around the courtroom, a bit bewildered as to why he was here now. Azkaban had not been kind to him. Courtroom Ten was not a room he was familiar with, and it was a change from the oppressive dreariness of Azkaban. The plum robes were a bit hard on the eyes, as was the general lighting of the room after years of only seeing things in shades of gray and black. The chains around his wrist came as no surprise.

"Sirius Black, you were accused of murdering on Peter Pettigrew and 13 muggles." A woman with a monocle began. It has come to our attention that you were never given a trial. Please explain the circumstances of the night of November 2nd, 1981 to the court…"

* * *

 _Late January 1988_

Sirius Black looked around the little cottage in curiosity. It seemed odd to him that Regulus would live in such a rustic little cottage. Regulus noted his curious look.

"We haven't always lived here, but after my wife left me I needed a change. Welcome home brother, you are welcome to stay as long as you wish to. Lyra!" he finished with a shout up the stairs.

Lyra, Sirius discovered, was a girl of about 9 years of age who had shrewd grey eyes and long, dark waves tied back with a green ribbon. She was wearing a long sleeved black dress with green embroidery that matched her ribbon and stockings. She wore no shoes, Sirius noted as she came down the stairs.

"Welcome to Cottage-by-the Crossroads Uncle." She greeted with a quick curtsey. Her curious look gave him the uneasy feeling that he was being evaluated, it was the same look that Arcturus had given him upon his release. Even after various evaluations and potions at St. Mungos he felt a bit off.

"Thank you Regulus," he managed to get out. "for your… generosity."

Regulus smiled at him mockingly and ushered him into the kitchen to sit at the table. "How hard those words must be for you Sirius. Better here than with Grandfather- either of them", he amended. "Grimmauld Place is unoccupied at the moment, but I wouldn't recommend it. I'm not sure what curses mother left on the place. She was quite horrified that both of her sons became blood-traitors in the end."

"Blood-traitor? You?" Sirius questioned. "What did you do to end up as one in mother's eyes?"

"He married my mother." Lyra said. "She is a muggle-born."

"I'm sure that mother blasted me off the family tree just as she did many of our generation. Grandfather would not let her disinherit me though, or there wouldn't have been anyone left to carry on the name. Don't be surprised if he tries to set you up with some proper pure-blood society witch. He's been trying to get me to remarry for over a year now. He didn't even wait for my divorce papers to be signed before he started insisting that I remarry. If you wish to be reinstated as the Black family heir you're welcome to marry some prissy society witch. I've been considering taking Gringotts up on their offer to send me to Egypt just to get away from his presentations of suitable wives at every party I'm required to attend."

"I'm not interested in marrying." Sirius said, drinking the tea that his niece had just made. "I'm even less interested in being the Black family heir. If I didn't hate the ministry so much I'd go and ask them to be reinstated as an Auror. Pettigrew, that miserable rat, is still at large. But for now I am most interested in finding out what happened to my godson, since I haven't been doing my duties as godfather for the past seven years."

"Apparently Dumbledore sent him to live with muggles, which is rather inappropriate for a boy who is both the boy-who-lived and the Potter family heir, as he is the last of that family. It caused a bit of a scandal, but since no one knows where he is, there is nothing to be done. It's Dumbledore who you will have to ask for your godson's whereabouts.

* * *

 _February 1988_

"He is safe Sirius" Dumbledore said, looking over his half-moon glasses at the agitated man across the desk. "It is best not to disturb his relatives."

"I want to see my godson." Sirius responded, barely containing his anger.

"And you will, but not until after he turns eleven. For now he is safe and happy with his relatives." Dumbledore said, and his tone left no room for debate.

* * *

 _June 1990_

Harry Potter was not at all happy and far from safe with his relatives. Aunt Petunia was especially vicious with her frying pan. It was Uncle Vernon who did the most damage with his frequent fists, especially after consuming liquor on especially bad days at work. Grunnings could have been doing a bit better, not that it would've stopped the limited meals and swipes directed towards the Dursley's young nephew.

It was when Uncle Vernon lost his job that Harry decided to run. He stole enough for the bus fare to London, but he knew that if he stayed he would be hurt severely.

* * *

 _July 1991_

Lyra looked around Diagon Alley in amazement. There was so much to see, and though Regulus worked at Gringotts, she had never visited the alley before. He preferred to bring her to the wizarding village of Hogsmeade to get basic essentials, especially when it wasn't a student weekend. Regulus did not like being seen out in the Wizarding World very often, preferring to remain in the shadows. Instead they took frequent trips around muggle London, and to Paris and Rome.

Regulus put a firm hand on her shoulder and guided her through the busy throngs of people. School lists had gone out a week before, and since the month of August had started, students who wished to read their textbooks before school started were in a bit of a panic.. He wore plain black robes edged in silver runes, and Lyra wore one of her simple black dresses, her outfit of choice.

"Ollivanders will be our first stop Lyra" he said, guiding her through the crowd. Ollivanders was narrow and surprisingly shabby for hosting an inventory of objects guaranteed to be bought. A bell tinkled as they entered the shop, and Lyra stiffened a bit as she felt the air tingle with the potential magic of so many magical ingredients in one place. It was more than a little dusty, and Lyra's lips curled into a sneer.

"Good morning" a soft voice called out from the darkness that clung to the hallway filled with boxes. Regulus had fingered his wand, and Lyra had already seen the man before he spoke.

"Good morning," Lyra greeted in return, grey eyes carefully tracking his movements.

"I don't believe I know your wand sir, though I have sold many wands to various Blacks over the years." he said to Regulus.

"Mine is from elsewhere" he said. "It suits me well enough, it is my daughter who is to get a wand today."

Ollivander frowned, pale eyes scrutinizing Regulus curiously for dodging his question.

"And your name child?" he asked.

"Lyra," she replied quickly.

"Which is your wand arm?" he asked, taking out a tape measure.

"My left" Lyra replied. Ollivander began measuring various things, nattering on about wandlore. The tape continues on measuring as he began pulling down boxes from the shelves.

"Walnut-" Lyra waved it and several shelves came crashing down. Regulus moved out of the way.

Ollivander snatched it back. "Perhaps not. Ebony and a phoenix feather-"

This time he didn't even let her wave it as it began to emit smoke. "Blackthorn and a dragon heartstring."

Sharp, tiny needles of ice came spitting out of the wand, embedding themselves in shelves and boxes before melting as Lyra put the wand down. "Almost" Ollivander said, looking at the boxes before handing her another.

She waved the pale wand, and it felt right as tiny blue flowers came out of it. Ollivander's pale, bulbous eyes blinked in surprise. "I've never seen anyone conjure flowers before. Of course, the ice needles were new too. Well Ms. Black, your wand has found you. Aspen, 9 ¾ inches, with a dragon heartstring core. That will be 7 galleons."

Regulus counted out the galleons, paying extra for the cleaning kit and a holster. He helped Lyra put it on before they even left the shop. "A wand is a very valuable tool, but like all tools it is useless if you can't use it properly... or if you don't have it."

Regulus shuffled Lyra in and out of a number of shops, including Twilfitt and Tattings, which was on the tad expensive side for robes. Regulus was not concerned, he made a sizable sum from his curse-breaking work at Gringotts, and if Arcturus had not reinstated Sirius by now, he was unlikely to at all. Sirius had not kept company with any female, suitable or otherwise, since being released from Azkaban.

The pair's very last stop was Flourish and Blotts. Regulus helped Lyra quickly gather up her required texts.

"We may as well browse the collection while we're here" he said, admiring the many books. A love of knowledge was something that he had shared with Venna, and his daughter. The difference between him and Venna was that Regulus needed a reason to seek knowledge, being a Slytherin came with a certain amount of realistic practicality that the other houses lacked. But the pair of Blacks also enjoyed reading, and Regulus took his daughter to muggle bookstores on a monthly basis, and wizarding ones twice a year to add to the ever growing collection at Cottage-by-the-Crossroads.

It was as Lyra was browsing the collection of textbook sets by the standard book of spells series (she got the whole set and the appendices) that she bumped into the boy. He had greasy black hair and ill-fitting rags. Based on the books that he was clutching she realized that he must also be a first year. His green eyes were quite wary. Lyra's first instinct was to sneer, but she stopped herself. For all she knew he might be a valuable ally.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, and held out a hand. "I didn't mean to bump into you. I just got distracted by all the books."

He quickly took her hand and shook it. "It's alright. This place is a bit overwhelming innit? I'm Harry by the way." he finished.

"I'm Lyra" she replied, returning the greeting. "Are you a first year at Hogwarts too then?" she asked.

Green eyes flashed in surprise. "How do y'know that?" he demanded.

She waved a hand at his textbooks. "Your books. There the same as mine." Lyra replied, as if should be obvious.

"Mr. Potter" said a sharp voice quietly. "Are you quite finished?" a man asked. He was a sneering man with sallow skin, shoulder length greasy hair, and a hooked nose, above which were gleaming, dark eyes.

Lyra could not quite contain the surprised at meeting the boy-who-lived, and was quite glad that she had not sneered at him.

"Yes Professor Snape." he said, sounding somewhat resigned.

The Professor put his hand on Harry's shoulder and was going to steer him away, but Regulus had just moved into his way. Lyra could tell that Regulus was somewhat uneasy at encountering the man, and she wondered why.

"Ah, Severus. What a pleasure to see you again. It's been years." he said with false cheeriness, and moved to Lyra's side immediately, putting his hand on her right shoulder so that he could reach his wand. "I see you've encountered my daughter Lyra. I rather suspect that she'll be in your house unless she breaks tradition and ends up in Ravenclaw like her mother was."

Regulus turned to his daughter, keeping an eye on Professor Snape. "Lyra, this is Professor Snape, who is the head of Slytherin house and teaches potions at Hogwarts."

"Hello professor," Lyra greeted warily. "I'm looking forward to your class. Potions is a very useful subject to learn."

"That it is Ms. Black" agreed Professor Snape before he turned back to Regulus. "I'm afraid I have a few more errands to run as Minerva has roped me into assisting her in introducing students to the magical world yet again and I must be going." Professor Snape did not sound particularly pleased.

"That's quite alright, we should get going as well." Regulus replied.

"I hope I see you at Hogwarts Harry" Lyra managed to get out as Professor Snape dragged the boy away. She was very curious as to how Harry Potter had ended up in such a state.

Regulus turned to her. "Who was that, Lyra?"

"The boy?" she muttered. "That was Harry Potter. I wonder how he ended up in such a state. Are his relatives not well off? Uncle Sirius would be horrified to see his godson in such a state."

"I'm more interested in how Severus got roped into taking the boy shopping" Regulus speculated. "He hated the boy's father- and Sirius too, for that matter, though they certainly did plenty to earn his hatred. I think he might have loved the boy's mother though, but I wouldn't recommend mentioning that to anyone. He didn't choose her in the end." Regulus' eyes darted around nervously. "Come on, let's pay for those books of yours and go home. I don't think I really want to run into anymore... old friends." Lyra let her father quickly pay and drag her out to use the floo- not the one in the Leaky Cauldron, but the fireplace of a different, less crowded pub towards the other end of the street.


	2. Off to Hogwarts

Chapter 2

Harry was beginning to wonder if Professor Snape hated him. He didn't really mind being hated in a public setting, and after the Dursleys and an unfortunate stint in one of the group homes of London he was quite used to being hated. He was more afraid of what would happen when they were no longer in a public setting. Harry wondered if the Professor would use his fists, or if there were spells like punches that he would dole out instead.

"I'll just be going then" Harry tried as everything on the shopping list was bought and payed for. Professor Snape snorted.

"Going where Potter? Back to that hole I dragged you out of. I think not. You will be spending the night in my home, and in the morning Dumbledore will figure out what to do with you."

"I'm not going back to the Dursleys." Harry insisted. "I don't think they'd even take me, they never wanted me in the first place."

"I don't doubt that Potter. Rest assured, I do not want you either. For now we must endure each other's company." Snape put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "We are going to apparate. It will be quite unpleasant, so please try to avoid vomiting on me when we arrive."

"What's apparation?" Harry asked nervously, and with a soft pop, he was thrown into a spinning tube until he was spat out again. Professor Snape quickly let go of him and moved away as he heaved onto the cobblestones before looking around. There were rows and rows of dilapidated brick houses, most of which were boarded up. Several had broken windows.

"Come along" said the Professor, holding his wand.

Harry followed the Professor though the rows of houses until they arrived at a small house that had blinds drawn, but lacked broken and boarded up windows. Harry was ushered inside and the door shut ominously behind them. With a wave of his wand the chandelier was lit, revealing a room with bookcases making up most of the walls.

"You are not to touch anything Potter" Snape snapped. With another wave of his wand he revealed a door to the upstairs.

"Follow me boy." he said, and Harry followed, wondering if Snape was going to lock him away until school started. Instead, Snape led him into a bathroom with a creaky looking shower.

"Shower Potter. You are filthy, and you smell." he sneered. "I will get you some clothing from your things. Leave the rags you are wearing in the corner. I will burn them." Snape held out a bottle of shampoo to Harry, and a bar of soap. "If there are any bugs on you, these should get rid of them." he finished, before sweeping from the room. Harry wondered how he managed to get his robes to flare out.

True to his word, the Professor left clean clothes in the bathroom. Harry took his time washing, glad to get rid of the filth of London. It was the smell of a thick stew that got him to dress and make his way down the stairs. It took a moment to find the kitchen.

Professor Snape was immersed in a book at the small, rickety kitchen table, but there was an extra bowl of stew. The kitchen would not have looked out of place in the 1940's. He pointed to it without looking up from his book. "Eat, Potter" he demanded, and Harry mumbled a thank you before attacking the bowl. He tried his hardest not to look like a complete animal while doing it, but he wasn't sure if he succeeded. Professor Snape gave him a look of disgust that assured him that he had not succeeded and refilled his bowl of stew. This one he ate a little slower.

"You will sleep on the couch. You are to leave my things alone, but you are welcome to read your own school books."

Harry nodded in understanding, but doubted he would be doing anything besides sleeping, which he did mere moments after laying down.

Knowing that the boy would not wake Professor Snape floo called Headmaster Dumbledore.

"Headmaster" Professor Snape greeted coolly. "I found the boy in a basement in muggle London. He has been out of dear Petunia's _care"_ he sneered- "for quite some time. Perhaps a year or maybe two. He is now in possession of all of his school things. Who should I send him to?"

"Thank you Severus" the Headmaster began. "I have located Petunia-"

"You're going to send the boy back to a woman who abused him?" Professor Snape interrupted.

The headmaster shook his head. "She did not, her husband was prone to violence. They are now divorced. Petunia is now at the Evans family home in Cokeworth, which I believe you are not unfamiliar with. She has agreed to take the boy for the summers until he turns 17. If not for the blood magic I would not send him back to her. As it is, I had to completely redo the wards."

"Has Black not expressed interest in taking the boy?" Snape asked.

"He has, but he still unstable after being in Azkaban for so long. I will not let him care for young Mr. Potter for long periods of time, especially after Mr. Potter's own ordeal. But perhaps I will let him visit as a threat to ensure that the boy is being cared for."

"Speaking of the boy's _ordeal,_ he is quite malnourished. Nutrient potions and a full medical scan by a qualified healer are my recommendation. I healed a few broken toes and I gave him a dose of nutrient potions, but I am not a qualified healer. You asked me to protect the boy, but there are some things I am not capable of doing."

The headmaster looked weary, but not particularly worried, something that struck Snape as odd. Should he not care more for his golden boy?

"I will send a discreet healer over in the morning, if your wards will allow for it." he said.

"I will open them. Tonight I shall brew more nutrient potions tonight to send with the boy. When I deliver him to Petunia I will make sure she knows that he is to take them, or I will pay her another visit." the Professor smiled mockingly. "She has never been overly fond of me."

* * *

Harry was extremely reluctant to return to his Aunt's care. Her face was pinched, and she looked quite exhausted. Dudley looked a good deal thinner than when Harry had seen him last. The sight of Professor Snape invoked both a sneer and a bit of fear on her face.

"Keep your freakishness to yourself" Petunia spat, gesturing to his things and passing him the potions Professor Snape had given her. "I don't care if you take these or not. You will do chores while you're here. I work all day so I'll leave you and Dudley each a list, and you aren't to bother each other." At this statement she actually gave Dudley an admonishing look, to Harry's astonishment.

The rest of Harry's summer passed in a blur of chores and reading. Early in the morning of September 1rst Aunt Petunia put him on an early morning train into London with a badly wrapped sandwich.

"Don't come home for Christmas or Easter" she said. "Stay out of trouble, and send me an- an owl a few days before the end of term so I can send you a train ticket back, unless you figure out some other freakish way of traveling."

"Yes Aunt Petunia," Harry said solemnly as she shoved a sandwich into his hand and left, mumbling about freaks.

* * *

The drive into London was quite a long one from Cottage-the-crossroads- near 6 hours so Regulus flooed with Lyra into the Leaky Cauldron instead and ventured out into muggle London for breakfast. Feeling sleepy Lyra opted for coffee instead of tea, which made her father's eyes dance in good humor. Considering he had only recently been in good spirits, Lyra was glad to see him happy without the assistance of spirits, which was always accompanied by the nasty downturn into melancholia.

Slipping on to Platform 9 ¾'s with ease, the pair moved out the way of the barrier before Regulus unshrunk her trunk.

"Are you sure that you don't want an owl?" Regulus asked her worriedly.

Lyra shook her head, narrowly avoiding a very loud red-haired woman and her brood of children. "There's no point father. You're going to be all the way in Egypt. We aren't going to be writing very many letters to each other."

"Are you sure I should go? I could stay for another year-"

Lyra shook her head, smiling a bit. "I'll be alright father. I'm going to Hogwarts. The castle has the largest magical library in all of Britain. If that can't keep me occupied than nothing can."

Regulus sighed. "You're going to be in Ravenclaw, aren't you?"

Lyra shrugged. "I'm not like Uncle Sirius. I'm not sure that I'll break tradition. I think Grandfather would be a bit disappointed if I ended up in Ravenclaw."

"It doesn't matter what your Grandfather thinks. He's always sticking his nose in where it doesn't belong" said Regulus, remembering Arcturus' latest attempt to get him to marry a pure-blooded woman. "I'm sorry that I won't be around for Christmas, but you're welcome to join your Grandfather, or-"

Lyra shook her head. "I'm going to stay at Hogwarts over break. It will give me a chance to have full access to the library without worrying about schoolwork, as I suspect homework will be impeding on my ability to read for pleasure."

Regulus barked out a short laugh at the expression of distaste on his daughter's face at anything interrupting her reading time. "Alright then. Write to me sometime tomorrow, I don't leave until next week so any owl you send me-"

Lyra rolled her eyes and checked her pocket watch. "I know father. I need to get on the train."

Regulus sighed, but helped his daughter get her trunk on the train before he quickly kissed the top of her head. She waved from the compartment that she had claimed as her own as the train pulled away. Out of the corner of his eye Regulus saw Lucius Malfoy heading towards him, and he apparated away with a quick pop. He had no desire to talk politics.

Lyra was about to settle down to read when some sneering seventh years nearly threw her- and thankfully her trunk, out of the compartment. She huffed in annoyance, but knew it wasn't worth complaining. Instead she dragged her trunk behind her and tried to find a new compartment. A few moments later she happened upon Harry's compartment. She slid open the door.

"Do you mind if I sit here Harry?" she asked as he was unwrapping a rather unpleasant looking sandwich.

He waved at the bench across from him which was empty. "I don't mind" he mumbled.

"You look a bit better than the last time I saw you" said Lyra as she dug through her trunk for a book to read.

He looked at her guardedly. "I've been returned to my Aunt's care."

"Is she a muggle? I don't think James Potter had any siblings."

"Yes she's a muggle. How would you know if James Potter had any siblings or not?"

"Studying the Black family tree was part of my education. I believe you are my second cousin once removed, and my third cousin once removed."

Harry looked curious at that. "Wait, how does that work? Is that through your mother and your father?"

"No, that's just through my father. My grandparents were second cousins." at this Harry made a face. "Yes, I know. There are only so many purebloods in Britain, so they are pretty much all related. You and I are lucky though, because both of our mothers were muggle-borns. That means we at least have some new blood in us. We're both half-bloods."

"What makes us half-bloods rather than pure-bloods?" Harry asked curiously. "I'm a bit new to the whole, blood status thing."

"Half-bloods have a muggle, or muggle-born parent, or maybe some other creature but let's not go there. Muggle-borns have two muggle parents, or maybe a squib parent since squibs so rarely stay in the muggle world. Squibs are the children of two people with magic that don't have any magic of their own, and they're quite rare. And pure-bloods-"

At that moment the door to the compartment slid open, a sneering blond boy with a pointed face poked his head into the compartment, along with two muscled goons.

"Pure-bloods, have clean blood that isn't tainted by muggle filth." sneered the blond boy. "What are you, some mudblood trash that has been let into Hogwarts?" he asked Harry.

Lyra shook her head at Harry as he began to respond. "Pure-bloods, are those with two magical parents, both of whom can't be a muggle-born. Because of this, they tend to inbreed and are all related. Eventually the gene pool will be so small that they will die out if they don't branch out a bit. Most people are half-bloods these days." she finished, watching as the blond boy turned a bit red.

"How dare you, you little-" he began, only to be interrupted by the pompous voice of a red-haired boy wearing a shiny prefects badge.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked, and Malfoy looked a bit hesitant.

"No problem," he muttered.

"Than you three ought to move along" he finished, waiting for the boys to leave, which they did reluctantly.

"Don't cause trouble before you even make it to Hogwarts" he said, eying them suspiciously.

"We weren't planning on it" said Harry quickly.

The prefect almost sneered at the new first years, but resisted and left the carriage. He had better things to do than soothe first years.

"Well he was pleasant." Harry muttered.

"Who? Malfoy? I'm not surprised he believes in the pure-blood supremacy rot." Lyra leaned in closer. "His father supported the Dark Lord, and got off by claiming he was under the Imperius- a curse that makes you do anything you're told. His money bought him out of a one-way ticket to Azkaban, the wizarding prison. He's done terrible things, but money really can buy you out of trouble here in the wizarding world."

"Are all pure-bloods like Malfoy?" Harry asked worriedly.

Lyra snorted. "Merlin no. The prefect was a Weasley, I believe. They don't mind muggles, or muggleborns and they're all purebloods… and red-heads. Most purebloods who are supremacists don't spit out insults quite as freely as Malfoy if they've got any sense. Most purebloods, or half-bloods, view muggles with a condescending benevolence and a general ignorance of how they live. I've been raised mostly in the wizarding world, but my mother was a muggle-born and I know how to do things like turn on a tv or take the tube. My father has made an effort to educate himself on how muggles live, and he's passed on knowledge of how to get about and of their history to me. We spend a lot of time in bookstores, but I know that I'm ignorant about some basics."

The conversation was interrupted by the trolley, and for a while the pair ate in comfortable silence, occasionally broken by a sound of amusement from Harry at different wizarding candies. The pair changed into their robes as darkness settled in, and nervously got off the train.

Hagrid, the groundskeeper, was the largest man that Lyra and Harry had ever seen, and they followed him with wide eyes down the narrow pathway to get their first glimpse of Hogwarts. It was a huge castle, with turrets and towers stretching up towards the sky. Perched above the Black Lake on a mountain, it made for quite a striking sight. The boat ride over was quiet, and Hagrid delivered his batch of first years into McGonagall's capable hands.


	3. At Hogwarts pt1

September 2nd, 1991

 _Dear Father,_

 _As promised, I am writing you a letter now that the sorting has occurred. I made a friend out of Harry Potter on the train, and I'm glad that I did because our sorting was quite interesting. I think Professor Snape actually managed to crush his goblet in one hand he was so furious- Harry Potter was sorted into Slytherin house, as was I. In fact, I'm writing this very letter in the Slytherin common room this morning. It is quite creepy, which you failed to mention. I'm not sure I really want to spend the next seven years living in a cold dungeon that looks like a shipwreck. And if I manage to get over that I don't really want to be in the same house as Draco Malfoy. He knows nothing of discretion, and I think he realized that he already made an enemy of Harry on the train without being introduced._

 _At least I can escape Malfoy in my dorm room, but I can already tell that two of the girls are horrid. Parkinson and Greengrass's make-up and gossip rags are already everywhere. Someday I'm going to set their collection of magazines on fire, I just know it. Davis seems alright, but Bulstrode snores._

 _Anyway, Professor Snape gave us first years- and some of the elder years a reminder that Slytherins are supposed to stick together. I think he may already know that Harry and Malfoy aren't going to get along, which is quite creepy. Do you know if he can read minds? That would be dead useful as head of Slytherin House._

 _I'll write again before you leave for Egypt._

 _Love,_

 _Lyra Black_

Regulus read over the letter from his daughter fondly. It was surprising that Lyra didn't break the Black family tradition of being in Slytherin, she probably would've been happier in Ravenclaw. Of course, Grandfather would be thrilled. Despite her half-blood status, Arcturus actually like his great granddaughter, Regulus suspected.

Her last line felt like a knife was twisting in his gut. Regulus would indeed be going to Egypt, and he would be doing some curse-breaking for the goblins, but his main reason for going was to visit the library in Alexandria to further research Horcruxes. He suspected that the locket was not the only one, and that the others had protections on them that he would need to break, preferably before Voldemort came back into power.

Regulus was not a fool, he could feel that the Dark Lord was out in the world somewhere through his mark, and he wanted to weaken him. Regulus was a coward- he knew this was a fact, which is what had prevented him from going to Dumbledore with what he knew. Regulus did not want to admit that he had once followed the madman- and he hadn't even switched sides, he had simply hid until it was over, hiding with Venna in France.

If the Dark Lord ever came back to full power he would have to take Lyra and run, because he would be a dead man if he stayed, and he wouldn't let Lyra grow up under the rule of a madman.

* * *

Harry did not like sharing a dorm with Malfoy. The other boys weren't so bad- Crabbe and Goyle didn't have any brains, Nott kept to himself, and Zabini sneered at Malfoy trying to hold court. Harry decided that he needed to be able to protect his things and himself from Malfoy or it was going to be a very unpleasant 7 years. By the time he got dressed and made it downstairs, Lyra was already there, curled up in an armchair and nose buried in a book. Some of her dark hair was escaping its ribbon, and the book was so large that it stretched from one side of the armchair to the other.

"What are you reading?" Harry asked, pushing his glasses up his nose nervously.

" _Hogwarts: A History._ I'm re-reading it actually. My great grandfather got it for me for my birthday last year. I was hoping that there was some sort of map so we don't get lost on our first day." said Lyra as she bookmarked her spot and closed the book.

"Any luck?" Harry asked.

Lyra shook her head. "No, let me put this away and we can go get our timetables at breakfast."

The new pair of Slytherin first years did make it to the Great Hall, and Harry tried his very best not to appear nervous- or to scowl at all the students who wanted to stare at the boy-who-lived. It didn't make getting to class very easy either as he tried to dodge the looks and whispers- but it was better to dodge other students, then to run into Peeves, who would definitely make you late to class, or Filch, who seemed to always be following Harry.

By the end of the first week Lyra was certain that Professor Snape hated Harry, and that Professor Quirrell was a suspicious fraud. Double Potions was an _illuminating_ lesson on both Gryffindors and Professor Snape.

"Ah, Harry Potter, our new- _celebrity_ " Professor Snape said softly with a mocking sneer during attendance. Harry looked at the man with a good deal of unease, even after his brief stay at the man's house he was certain that the man hated him.

Malfoy and his goons, Crabbe and Goyle sniggered, as did a boy from Gryffindor whose only features of note were his red hair and ability to stuff his face. The redhead stopped sniggering rather quickly as Snape's cold black eyes briefly caught his.

"Another _Weasley_." he sneered. "I fear that the castle may become overrun." he mocked, before continuing on with attendance.

Malfoy sniggered some more- as did some others.

 _"Teacher's pet"_ Lyra thought contemptuously.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began in almost a whisper. The class hung on to his every word, instinctively knowing that interrupting him would result in nasty consequences. "As there is little foolish-wand waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses … I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Silence followed the speech- and it was a good speech Lyra thought as she studied reactions. There were some raised eyebrows, a desire to prove one's worth, and Granger, predictably, looked as if she was quite desperate to prove she wasn't a dunderhead.

"Potter!" Snape barked. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry looked at Lyra in confusion, and she winced, knowing the answer but knowing that she couldn't help him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Granger wave her hand around.

" _Know-it-all swot_ " Lyra thought to herself.

"I don't know sir" Harry replied reluctantly.

Snape sneered. "Tut, tut- fame clearly isn't everything." He ignored Granger's hand in search of other prey.

"Weasley, five of your brother's have passed through this class, perhaps you've retained something from your textbooks. Where would you look if I told you to find a bezoar?"

Weasley didn't look very pleased to be called on. "Er- a potions ingredient cabinet sir?" he replied hopefully.

"Wrong, Weasley." Snape replied, his sneer growing larger. Granger was now waving her hand like a beacon, barely sitting in her chair. "I will give you a chance to redeem yourself. What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Snape asked, with an expectant eyebrow raised.

Granger stood up, hand raised towards the ceiling. Lyra could tell that Weasley had no idea what the answer to the question was.

"I don't know sir," he began sullenly. "But Hermione does, so why don't you ask her?"

Snape's eyes got colder. He turned towards Granger, who opened her mouth to speak. "Sit down. Two points from Gryffindor for standing in my class." Granger looked utterly crushed and Lyra barely kept herself from snickering. Others did not. Snape turned back to Weasley. "Five points from Gryffindor for your cheek Weasley" he said in disgust.

"For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. Weasley- a bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat that will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which is also known as aconite. Please remember to read your textbook before the next class," he looked at the rest of the class, most of whom were staring at him still. Lyra and Zabini were the only ones who had parchment out. "Well? Why aren't you all copying this down?"

There was a sudden rustle of parchment as the students hurried to obey. Professor Snape gave a brief synopsis of the Boil Cure potion, paired them up, and set them to brewing. He seemed intent on criticizing everyone but Malfoy. He sneered several times at Harry and Lyra's cauldron, but since there was nothing to criticize, he moved on. He was praising Malfoy's stewed horn slugs when clouds of acrid green smoke and a hissing sound filled the dungeon. Lyra and Harry were quick to climb their stools as the potion melted the cauldron and spilled out onto the floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Longbottom, who was drenched in the disastrous potion, moaned in pain as boils began springing up all over his body.

"Idiot boy!" Snape snarled in disgust. With a wave of his wand he cleared the potion up. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Longbottom only whimpered in response, and Lyra almost winced in sympathy as boils popped up all over his nose. She made a mental note to never sit anywhere near Longbottom.

"Take him up to the hospital wing." Snape told Seamus. He whirled around to where Weasley and Thomas were working on their own potion. "Weasley- why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's two more points you've lost for Gryffindor."

Weasley opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it, closing it with a snap.

"The rest of you, if you have something that can be handed in, bottle it up and do so. I had you brew the Boil Cure potion first, because only a simpleton can screw it up and it illustrates some of the very basic steps of potion making. Today you have also seen that potions can go wrong if a simple step is omitted…

It was with some relief that Harry and Lyra left the dungeon to go to DADA. Professor Quirrell was a dull, stuttering idiot, but at least he wasn't cruel. His classroom did reek of garlic, and even his turban smelled funny. By the end of the class Harry was nearly clutching his head.

"What's wrong with you?" Lyra asked.

"Headache" Harry replied. "It must be the garlic- or maybe it's from the fumes of Longbottom's potion."

"You could go see Madame Pomphrey for that" she said quietly.

Harry shook his head. "Malfoy would never let me hear the end of it. I'm going to lie down before dinner."

"Alright," Lyra said worriedly, and Harry made his way towards the dungeon as Lyra headed to the library, careful to dodge a few sneering Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs along the way. First year Slytherins made for easy targets, so Lyra decided grimly that she was going to make herself a less easy target.

The Hogwarts library, was a wondrous place, filled with tens of thousands of books on shelf after shelf. It held the largest collection of books in the British Isles, and the largest of any of the magical schools in Europe. There were hidden nooks among the narrow rows of books, and the library was being continually added to on an annual basis. The Ministry often sent their researchers to the library to consult the collection, so it was entirely possible to find a harassed looking Ministry employee scribbling notes on the books in some dusty corner. Madame Pince kept a special eye on them- researchers with deadlines were known to deface books.

Lyra yanked out her planner to consult- if she completed her potions and defense assignments today, she would have the entire weekend to research whatever she pleased. Lyra was the type to always put care into her assignments, but she didn't put the obsessive care into them that the swotty Ravenclaws- and Granger did. Instead she spent a good deal of time figuring out spells- basic jinxes, charms, reversal spells. How did magic work? She did a good deal of reading, but spell practice was something she often did after curfew in one of the nooks off of the Slytherin common room.

When Harry realized what she was doing he joined her, because he agreed with her that knowledge was power- and safety as he began to learn more advanced locking charms and hexes to keep Malfoy out of his stuff, especially after he had rescued Neville's remembrall from him with a very basic stinging hex. Professor Snape had reminded him- with a detention, that Slytherins stuck together in public.

* * *

Harry finished the last of his potions essay with a mocking flourish. Lyra sat across from him engrossed in a book about- Harry paused to squint at the title.

"Why are you reading about Chinese Wizarding History?" he asked incredulously. It was the most random, irrelevant topic he could think of.

"Because Chinese Wizards make up a huge portion of the wizarding world. There was an article in the Daily Prophet the other day about population trends in China and India. They might be building new wizarding schools- and their histories and schooling is a little different from ours. Don't be surprised to see more students from China and India appearing here at Hogwarts. The ministry had been trying to increase the population of wizarding Britain for years."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Can we go outside while the weather's still nice? We haven't really explored the grounds yet, and it's already mid-October. The weather won't hold out for much longer." he pleaded.

Lyra sighed. "Let me check this out and put it away in my dorm room and then we can go. I don't want to carry it outside and I'm not done reading."

Harry and Lyra drifted outside and wandered the grounds. They stayed well away from the Whomping Willow, which was a rather nasty tree, and were admiring the giant pumpkins when the groundskeeper came out of the forbidden forest carrying a crossbow, accompanied by an enormous black boarhound.

"Oi, you two. You better not be trying to head out into the forbidden forest."

"Of course not Mr. Hagrid" Lyra replied. "We have no intention of being carried off by a giant spider or whatever lives out there. We were just admiring the pumpkins."

"A Black are you?" he said, squinting at her. "No wonder that you know about giant spiders if you've been talking to yer Uncle. And Harry Potter. I haven't seen you since you were a baby Harry, and you've grown quite a bit since then."

"I should hope so" Harry replied, a bit indignant.

Hagrid raised a bushy brow at that. "Why don't the pair of you come in for a spot of tea then?"

"Er- alright." said Harry, and Lyra hesitantly followed him into the groundskeeper's wooden house. Hagrid left the crossbow by the door, and Fang trotted on ahead of his master.

There was only one room, and Harry and Lyra gingerly sat themselves at the table. After a quick glance upwards, Lyra decided she was better off not looking around, and that she was not going to touch any food that Hagrid put out. She did accept the chipped cup of tea that he passed her.

"So a Potter and a Black, it's like history is repeating itself." Harry shot Lyra a curious look. "I remember a young James Potter and Sirius Black always exploring the grounds, and their friends Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew who were a bit quieter. Always in trouble those four." Hagrid reminisced, before turning to Lyra, who didn't fail to see Harry's hungry look at the mention of one of his parents. "How is your Uncle Ms. Black. I haven't seen him since before…" Hagrid trailed off.

"Uncle Sirius is alright. My father says he isn't quite the same as when he was young, but that's to be expected. He hates the ministry though, but he's finally gotten a job at an investigative firm in London. My father's just glad that he has something to do now. Mr. Lupin keeps him out of trouble."

Hagrid let out a snort. "Sirius Black isn't the sort to keep out of trouble very long. Does he still ride that beautiful bike of his?"

"The one that flies? Of course." said Lyra.

"He has a flying motorbike? I used to have a dream about being on a flying motorbike." said Harry.

"Well you were on one as a baby Harry, I took you from Godric's Hollow to the Dursleys myself on it. I finally returned the bike after Sirius got out of Azkaban. Dumbledore trusts me with all sorts of important tasks, you see."

Harry flinched at the mention of the Dursleys. Any relation that one preferred living on the streets to living with could not have been pleasant.

"Oh, do you know what's up with the Cerberus in the third floor corridor?" Lyra asked, fiddling with her tea.

Hagrid squinted at her. "How d'you know about Fluffy?"

"I overheard a classmate who took a wrong turn. Apparently… Fluffy is guarding something, because he's on top of a trap door." Lyra said, knowing that she was on the edge of getting in trouble.

"Don't you worry about what Fluffy's guarding. He's not the only safeguard. What he's guarding is strictly between Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel." He squinted at them again, looking a little confused.

Harry opened his mouth. "Who's-" and Lyra kicked him in the shin, which he rubbed, glaring at her a bit.

"What sort of things do you do as a groundskeeper Mr. Hagrid?" she asked brightly. "There must be all sorts of tasks since they are so extensive."

Hagrid looked pleased. "Don't bother calling me mister. I have all sorts of tasks, like growing those pumpkins you were admiring and taking care of the thestrals that pull the carriages…"

As the pair walked back up to the castle Harry asked Lyra "Who is Nicholas Flamel?"

"He's the only known creator of the philosopher's stone-" seeing his confused look, she explained further "-it can turn any metal into gold and it is also used to create the elixir of life, which has expanded Flamel and his wife's life span to well over 500 years. The philosopher's stone is stored here at Hogwarts, and someone wants you to know that Harry. Hagrid looked like he had been hit with a confundus. If I were you, I'd stay as far away from the third floor corridor as possible."

"But if we can figure out that it's being stored here, who else can?" asked Harry.

"Isn't it obvious who would want the philosopher's stone, Harry?" Lyra asked patiently.

"Oh, Voldemort." Harry replied, swallowing hard.

"Exactly Harry, it would restore him to his former glory. My father never believed he was truly gone. And I have a feeling that Dumbledore wanted you to know that the philosopher's stone was here at Hogwarts, otherwise he never would've entrusted that information to Hagrid. Be careful Harry, it seems like you're a pawn in a much larger game, and you don't know the rules."

"Maybe I'd better start" he quipped. "There's a board in the common room, do you fancy a game?"

"Sure Harry" Lyra replied, seeing the grim realization and glint of determination in his eyes.


	4. At Hogwarts pt2

Chapter 4

October 30th, 1991

 _Dear Lyra,_

 _I wish I could write more often, but the goblins keep me very busy here in Egypt. From your last letter I gather that you have made a friend- and several enemies, which I suppose cannot be helped. After all, you are a Black, and we are prone to melancholia, pride, and occasional bouts of insanity. I am very glad that you have made a friend, though your choice is an interesting one- I did not think that Harry Potter would be a Slytherin. I think it made your Uncle Sirius a bit angry, but hopefully he'll get over it. He's trying to get Dumbledore to allow him to have Harry for Christmas, but I'm not sure that he will._

 _I know that you were planning on staying at Hogwarts for Christmas, but Grandfather Arcturus has been unwell, and he asked me if he could invite you to Black manor for Christmas. I know that you would prefer the company of the Hogwarts library, but Black Manor has quite the collection- though I would be careful what you pick up since some of the books can be quite… nasty. After the somewhat sudden death of Pollux- your other great-grandfather, who was at least a decade younger than him, he has been reminded of his own mortality._

 _I should warn you that your Aunt- two greats for you- Cassiopeia will also be present. She is more than a little mad, but I don't think she'll care too much that you're a half-blood. I wouldn't bring it up though. If you're especially unlucky, Cygnus will stop by to plead for inheriting the family title. He has no sons, or Arcturus probably would have left it to him. I think he still has hope that either I or Sirius will magically produce an heir. I'm inclined to let the name die, and the only heir Sirius will ever produce will be by accident. I don't think any woman would ever be stupid enough to bond with him._

 _Enclosed in the package is your birthday present, which is a collection of things I have picked up in the markets. Each has its own note._

 _With Love,_

 _-Regulus Black._

Lyra regarded the package with curiosity, but decided against opening it at the breakfast table. She supposed it was bigger on the inside than the outside, since it could easily fit into her bag. Malfoy opened his mouth to be nosy about it but was nearly whacked in the head by another delivery- this time delivered by a Great Gray owl that Lyra knew belonged to Arcturus. If only Pansy hadn't told him to duck…

This time Lyra did detach the letter and quickly perused it. It contained a congratulations on being sorted into Slytherin, some rhetoric on the family name, and an invitation to come to the manor for Christmas. She knew that later she would have to decipher the double meaning behind his prose, but since it was still morning she wasn't going to bother. There was no indication that the package wasn't safe to open at the table.

"Who owns that bloody beast?" Draco asked, after it had flown away.

"My great-grandfather" Lyra replied absentmindedly as she used a butter knife to slice open the package. It revealed a book, and an expensive looking journal. Harry looked over her shoulder.

" _History of the Black Family_ ," he read aloud. He looked at the thickness of the book as he reached for another piece of toast, "What are you supposed to do with that, bludgeon someone to death?"

"It's probably been used that way on a tutor," Lyra replied dryly. "The Blacks are related to nearly every pure-blooded family in Britain. Someone usually updates it every few years or so."

Harry looked at it doubtfully. "It doesn't look new."

"It's connected to a master copy."

Malfoy looked at it with thinly disguised curiosity. "I've never seen one of those before." he muttered.

"Well, I'm sure that the Malfoy family has its own version somewhere. Your mother probably gave up her copy when she married your father."

"I'm surprised that you even know my mother was a Black" he shot back.

"Just because I'm a half-blood doesn't mean I got out of the lessons that purebloods get on lineage and the other societal necessities. I wasn't raised under a rock." Lyra finished, scowling.

"Why is your grandfather sending this to you today?" Harry asked curiously, reaching for it. Lyra slapped his hand away.

"It's my first birthday since I've started Hogwarts. It's traditional to only receive a copy after being accepted into a magical school. That way the family knows that you're powerful enough to be considered a member of the Black family. And please don't touch it, I'm not sure how far removed you can be from the Black family tree before the book's protections start to kick in."

Harry turned away from it and went back to his breakfast- and his charms essay.

* * *

October 31rst, 1991

Lyra watched as Granger flew away from Weasley as he mocked her in front of Finnegan. Harry made a noise of disgust as they made their way into Charms class.

"Weasley is an-" Lyra hit his arm, seeing Flitwick nearby. Professor Snape gave Harry enough detentions, he didn't need one with Flitwick too.

"I know. Maybe we can use him for target practice sometime. Granger's a swot, but that's no excuse for people to be cruel to her. Gryffindors are so stupid, they should be using their classmate's ability to regurgitate textbooks to their advantage" Lyra whispered as Flitwick broke them up into pairs.

"Do you think she knows the textbooks better than you?" Harry asked curiously.

"Oh, I'm sure she does" Lyra said, before executing a perfect " _Wingardium Leviosa"_ on her feather. "But I know more spells."

Harry knew that she was right, and after a few tries he did the levitation spell himself. In a class full of Slytherins and Ravenclaws it only took a few tries for most people to get the spell. Crabbe did manage to set his feather on fire.

Flitwick spent his time in the class assisting the stragglers, and leaving the homework assignment on the board for the rest of the class. Some chose to continue practicing the spell, but over half the Ravenclaws- and Lyra started the assignment.

"Why are you starting that now? You've got all weekend!" said Harry.

"Because if I get it done now it frees up time for some light reading- and some not so light reading. I need to make a dent in the Black Family History, and it's three inches thick! Grandfather will quiz me on it over break."

Harry sighed, but took out his _Standard Book of Spells_ to begin his essay, occasionally borrowing Lyra's copy of _Magical Theory_.

Finally dinner time came around. Harry caught some of the Gryffindor girls' conversation.

"Did you try to get Hermione to come down to the feast Lavender?" one of the Patil twins asked.

"Yes, but she's still crying in the girls lavatory, she told me she wanted to be left alone" said Brown.

Harry and Lyra exchanged dark looks. "Maybe we should turn his hair green for the first Quidditch match, he hates Slytherin colors."

The Great Hall was brilliantly decorated for Halloween, with live bats on the walls and ceiling, and hundreds of carved pumpkins floating in mid-air. The food appeared on the golden plates of the welcome feast.

The pair of Slytherins were just reaching for something to eat when Professor Quirrell came racing into the hall, terrified, and with his turban askew. He raced all the way to Dumbledore's chair, leaned heavily against the table and got out "Troll- in the dungeons - thought you ought to know."

He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.

"What would Quirrell be doing in the dungeons anyway?" Lyra asked Harry, who shrugged in response as the hall erupted into an uproar.

Firecrackers exploded from the end of Dumbledore's wand to catch everyone's attention.

"Prefects, lead your houses back to their dormitories immediately!"

Scowling, the Slytherin prefects made some threatening jabs with their wands to get their house out of the hall. Lyra was rather reluctant to go to where the troll was supposedly located, but figured that in a large enough crowd she'd probably be fine.

Harry yanked her into a crowd of Hufflepuffs and up the stairs. "Where in the name of Morgana are we going?" she asked as they ended up with some Gryffindors before carefully veering off.

"Granger" he said, and Lyra's eyes lit up in understanding.

"She doesn't know. We should've told a teacher."

"I didn't think of it until after we left the hall. It will be faster to warn her now." Harry suddenly yanked her behind a suite of armor as Professor Snape swept by in a hurry.

"Dammit Harry" Lyra said after he passed. "We could've told him."

Harry shook his head. "I don't think it was worth another detention. I don't think I've gotten rid of all the sludge under my fingernails from the last one. It's curious though, why is he headed up to the third floor if the troll's in the dungeon?"

Lyra sighed, and they crept along the corridor to the girls bathroom, only to be assaulted by a foul stench. And then they heard the grunting and shuffling footsteps of something with gigantic feet. It moved along the corridor, finally coming into view. The creature was 12 feet tall, with a gray, lumpy body, and arms so long that it dragged its club along the ground.

"Mountain Troll" Lyra whispered to Harry as it waggled its ears before entering a nearby doorway.

"Think we can get by without it noticing us?" Harry asked, as a high, petrified scream came from the doorway.

"That's the girl's bathroom you fool", Lyra responded.

Harry raced to the door, and after a brief mental debate Lyra followed.

Hermione Granger was cowering against the wall, and Harry threw something against the wall to catch its attention. Confused, it began lumbering towards Harry instead. Lyra tried to yank Granger off of the ground as Harry began rapidly backing towards the door.

Seeing that their exit was about to be blocked off by a twelve foot high Mountain Troll, Lyra whipped out her wand and pointed it- not at the troll, because they were magically resistant- but at the troll's club.

" _Wingardium Leviosa_ " she shouted desperately, and with the accompanied swish and flick, the club was removed from the trolls hand. Lyra levitated it above the trolls head and let go of the spell as it looked upwards. Harry barely moved out of the way as the troll swayed and then fell over with a thud that echoed throughout the room.

"Is it dead?" Granger asked, and Harry shook his head.

"It looks like it's been knocked out."

"We'd better get out of here before the Professors come." Lyra said, helping Granger up. "We weren't intending on taking down a mountain troll- just wanted to warn you to go back to your common room since you were still crying over what that git Weasley said to you."

"Thank-" Hermione was interrupted by the sudden arrival of Professor McGonagall, followed by Professor Snape, and Quirrell. Professor Quirrell looked a bit faint at the sight of the troll, and sat down rather quickly on a nearby toilet.

Snape quickly inspected the troll as Professor McGonagall rounded on the pair of Slytherins. Lyra put her wand back into its holster. Professor McGonagall looked absolutely furious.

"What on earth were you thinking?" she got out in a cold rage.

Snape shot Harry a look that would have put holes in him if possible. He looked down at the ground. He then rounded on Lyra.

"You, Black, explain," he said furiously, holding up a hand as Granger looked like she was about to interrupt.

Lyra's grey eyes met his, and she refused to be the first to look away. Her sneaking suspicion that Snape could read minds had never gone away. "Harry and I overheard Weasley being cruel to Granger earlier today, and her dorm mates talking about how she was still crying in the lavatory as we came into the feast. It occurred to Harry that she didn't know about the troll, and since we couldn't find a professor and the prefects had gone ahead we decided to warn her. Neither of us thought we'd actually run into the troll, we were hoping to warn Granger and hide in a classroom until the place was cleared."

"How very noble of you" Professor Snape said snarkily. "Now explain how three first years defeated a fully grown mountain troll."

"Harry distracted it and I levitated its club above its head and let go of the spell, was Lyra's quick reply.

Professor Snape and McGonagall exchanged looks. "Ten points to Slytherin for a creative use of a basic levitation charm Ms. Black."

Lyra looked a bit relieved-until he smirked. "And you, and Mr. Potter here, will be joining me in detention tomorrow night after dinner for foolishly wandering off. Go back to the common room. If you're lucky there might still be some food left."

They had nearly escaped when Professor Snape added, "Ms. Black, I will be writing to your father informing him of these events."

Lyra winced. Her father was unlikely to be pleased with her. Thankfully the response would likely take at least a week to arrive.

* * *

With the arrival of November came the chilling promise of winter… and the first Quidditch match. Snape was even surlier than usual, and seemed to have acquired a limp. Detention consisted of some thoroughly disgusting ingredient preparation. It was Lyra's first detention, and she hoped to avoid them in the future. Professor Snape was very good at coming up with creative and disgusting menial tasks for students who pissed him off.

Saturday was the first Quidditch match of the season. Harry, who had never seen a Quidditch game, was quite surprised as Lyra dragged him to the stands.

"What's the big deal? It's just a game."

"Just a game!" she said, scandalized. "Quidditch, is perhaps one of the best wizarding traditions, ever. It's violent, and people fly around on broomsticks, trying to knock each other off- sometimes the bludgers get, and the chasers score in the hoops while the two seekers chase after a tiny golden ball. They used to use snidgets, but that was deemed an inhumane use of an animal. Besides, Slytherin is playing, and you need to show house pride while Gryffindor-" Lyra quickly noted the proximity of several teachers and changed what she was going to say to- "loses."

Bemused, Harry followed her to the stands. As the game began he immediately understood her fascination. Quidditch made Rugby look dull. By the end of the game he was just as enthusiastic as everyone else, though a bit disappointed in Higgs, the seeker who took forever to catch the snitch.

"I saw the snitch more than five times in the game. He must've looked nearly directly at it twice and didn't see it. Even Malfoy saw it more often than Higgs." Harry said, disgusted.

"I'd stop saying that too loud, Harry." said Lyra. You could try out for the team next year though, I think Higgs is leaving. Come on- I'm sure that there's a party in the common room." she finished brightly.

* * *

With December came the promise of a long awaited holiday. It seemed like the Professors had different approaches to that fact. Some were rather lax- but others, like Professor Snape and McGonagall assigned extra assignments, and the occasional pop quiz. Lyra completed them with ease, and began to spend as much time in the Hogwart's Library as possible before she was wrenched away from it. Granger took to joining her at her favorite spot in the library, and the pair could often be seen reading together, much to some of the other Slytherin's dismay.

"I'm sorry that I'll be going away for Christmas, Harry." Lyra said regretfully, as he signed up to stay.

Harry shrugged. "Hogwarts seems as good a place to be as any for Christmas. It's certainly well decorated for it."

Lyra hesitated, and dropped her voice down to a whisper. "Did my Uncle Sirius ask if you could come for Christmas?"

Harry looked startled. "No, why would he do that?"

"He's your godfather Harry, I thought you knew. He's been deemed unfit to be your guardian all twelve times he's applied so far, but I thought he'd at least ask you to join him for Christmas regardless of that."

Harry stilled, taking a deep breath to calm his rage. "You mean the Dursley's weren't my only option? They starved me and- and did enough damage that the streets were kinder to me than they were. Aunt Petunia on her own isn't so bad, but only because she didn't want another visit from Professor Snape."

"Well- Sirius spent several years in prison. There was a mix-up and he was sent to Azkaban for murders that he didn't commit. He's been cleared of them" Lyra added reassuringly at Harry's expression, "but prison was not kind on his mind. And as much as I hate to say this, the Black family is not exactly known for being sane- or reasonable. But he's gotten much better over the years."

"I haven't gotten any letters from him" said Harry.

Lyra looked grim. "I bet Dumbledore's stopped them from reaching you. I'll write to Sirius, I know that he'd like to get to know you. And I know you're curious about your parents, he can probably tell you quite a bit about them."

"I'd like that" said Harry.

Malfoy, took as many opportunities as he could get to try to get a rise out of Harry, knowing that Professor Snape would happily give only Harry detention. "I do feel so sorry for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they aren't wanted at home."

Harry ignored him in favor of measuring out his powdered lionfish, thankful that Lyra had taught him a warming charm earlier so that he didn't have to hover quite as close to his cauldron as Longbottom, who managed to catch his robes on fire.


	5. Black Christmas

Chapter 5: A Black Family Christmas

Lyra got on the train to London with the majority of other students with a feeling of dread. Grandfather Arcturus was best in small doses- the occasional visit, when he was focused on her father, and brief congratulatory letters. Aunt Cassiopeia was someone she knew nearly nothing about, and was a bit nervous to meet. The stories Uncle Sirius and her father had swapped had made it sound as though she was fond of corporeal punishment, and was not a witch to be trifled with.

Lyra picked her out of the crowd at the station from the train- she had just put her copy of _The History of the Black Family_ away. Aunt Cassiopeia stood tall, in elegant green robes and wearing a fierce scowl. At an age over 70 she barely looked forty. She chose to wait by the Malfoys, who were giving her nervous looks. The fact that Lucius Malfoy looked somewhat nervous to stand next to her did not bode well.

Lyra levitated her trunk onto the platform, picking her way through the crowd. Malfoy, unfortunately, was walking in the same direction.

"Black" he sneered in distaste.

"Malfoy" she returned mockingly, with a good deal more venom. She sneered at him dragging his trunk, and he flushed a bit. The pair reached his parents, and he looked at her in confusion, until he realized that she was actually interested in who they were standing next to.

"Aunt Cassiopeia," Lyra began. "It is a pleasure to meet you. I've heard so much about you. My name is-"

"Lyra, yes, I know." she said somewhat impatiently. With a tap of her wand Lyra's trunk shrunk to a size that she could put in her pocket. Cassiopeia handed it to her before turning to Mr. Malfoy and surveying Draco.

"Your offspring Lucius?" she questioned.

He nodded, trying very hard not to look nervous. His wife, with her pale pointed features did a bit better. "Yes, this is my son Draco. And your…" he gestured towards Lyra."

Cassiopeia turned to her. "Girl, how are you related to me?"

"You are my great-great Aunt" she replied immediately.

"Right then. Lyra is my niece however many times removed. She's Regulus' offspring- pity he couldn't do something right and have a boy." Lyra quickly fixed a polite smile on her face. A calculating look appeared on Aunt Cassiopeia's face. "If Lyra and Draco married and had offspring, the children's last names could be hyphenated so that Black family might have some hope of continuing on."

Draco didn't manage to keep the look of disgust from his face. Mr. Malfoy clenched his cane tightly.

"What do you say to that girl?" asked Aunt Cassiopeia.

"I don't think _Draco_ ," his first name was odd, she never used it, "would survive being married to me," she finished without any humor. Her grey eyes were filled with an icy promise that made Draco flinch.

Aunt Cassiopeia patted Lyra on the head. "I think you deserve a biscuit when we arrive home. It's a ridiculous notion that has been flitting around in my dear cousin's head for years now. The promise of mariticide might make him rethink that match. There's already been enough incidences of that in the family…" she trailed off, noting that Lucius and Narcissa looked a tad relieved that Aunt Cassiopeia did not think it to be a real possibility. "You were implying mariticide, right dear?" she asked.

"I doubt it would ever make it that far. I expect my father would get to him first… and that Uncle Sirius would be more than happy to help. But if necessary…" Lyra finished threateningly.

Aunt Cassiopeia looked amused before checking her pocket watch. "We had best be going. Arcturus has never been a particularly patient man. You are familiar with side-along apparation Lyra?" she asked, and with a nod Lyra moved closer to her Aunt, who gripped her arm and with a pop, they went through a nauseating bout of spinning before arriving outside Black Manor with a pop. Lyra took a moment to calm her stomach, glad that her father did not prefer apparation as a means of travel.

Black Manor was surrounded by huge hedges that seemed to have devil's snare embedded within them. Aunt Cassiopeia didn't bother opening the towering gate with the Black Family crest on it. Instead she simply dragged Lyra through the gate, which wasn't solid- to them anyway. On one side of the drive were sprawling, elegant gardens, and on the other was a giant hedge maze. Aunt Cassiopeia guided her as far from the edge of the maze that she could while still being on the drive. Lyra looked at it curiously.

"When balls used to be hosted here my grandmother- and others used to dispose of unwanted guests in that maze. It's haunted, and there's all sorts of creatures and traps in there that no one's ever bothered to remove. The last ball hosted here was in the 1950's and there might still be some guests and wayward relations in there. The maze has been growing since it was created in the late 16th century. It's older than the house." Aunt Cassiopeia lectured.

The manor itself was enormous, with a mixture of styles from as early as Baroque to Victorian. Aunt Cassiopeia led Lyra briskly into the house, which seemed to have an oppressive aura of gloom. The entrance hall was designed to awe, and with its two giant fireplaces was where guests would floo in. Tapestries covered the walls, and there was a single empty painting in the room. Lyra followed her Aunt up the grand staircase and through several hallways before they arrived at Arcturus' study.

Arcturus usually looked good for his age, but today he looked like he was in his 90's, a drastic change from any other time she had seen him. Lyra began to curtsey in greeting, but he shook his head and waved a hand at the chair across from his desk.

"Thank you Cassiopeia." he said, and she let out a sniff before leaving the room.

With a wave of his wand he shut the door, and with another wave he put up a silencing charm on both the door and the portraits.

Lyra sat primly in her seat, hands folded neatly in her lap as Arcturus studied her.

"What has this family come to when its future rests upon a twelve year old girl, who isn't even a pureblood?" he asked. Lyra remained silent, assuming that the question was rhetorical.

"What are the chances that either of my grandsons will produce a child?" he asked expectantly, and Lyra realized that this question was not.

"Quite minimal." she replied.

"Elaborate."

"Well," Lyra began hesitantly, "Uncle Sirius has not fully recovered from Azkaban, and though I probably should not have been listening, I overheard him talking to father last year. I don't think he is capable… of procreating anymore."

Arcturus inhaled sharply. "You are certain of this?" he demanded.

Lyra nodded. "He mentioned visiting a healer. He can't… well, have sex," she finished, uncomfortable with the subject.

"That is unfortunate. I was rather hopeful he would knock someone up by accident. And your father?"

"If he's shown any interest in a woman since my mother he has been extremely discreet," Lyra said wryly.

"Could he be convinced?"

"Maybe if you shoved a love potion down his throat and somehow tricked a woman into marrying him. I love my father, but he's a workaholic who spends a good deal of his free time drowning himself in whiskey and gin."

Arcturus poured Lyra a cup of tea and shoved it across the desk to her. "Regulus does a very good job at avoiding any form of gathering where he could be tricked into any such thing. If I didn't force my company on him I probably wouldn't even see him. And now he's escaped all the way to Egypt… When do you think he's coming back?"

Lyra regarded him critically. "Probably after you die. I get the impression that he's avoiding you, and I think he's researching something that is unrelated to his work for Gringotts."

"A Black, working," sneered Arcturus. "Ridiculous. He has been doing a good job of avoiding me, hasn't he?" he muttered.

"Do you know who inherits if I die and your father dies?" he asked.

"Uncle Sirius, because he still bears the Black family name, despite his disinheritance."

"And then?"

"Cygnus, if he's still alive, followed by Draco Malfoy."

"Draco will only inherit it if Cygnus does first. If he dies before your father, which is highly likely, and you haven't changed your last name, you will inherit the estate. In fact, unless you are married, you have a greater claim to the estate than your Uncle, who will only fight for the estate if Cygnus is the other one destined to inherit. In all the years that the Black family has existed with means, the entail has never been broken. I'd rather that you inherit and pass along the family name- either in full or a hyphenated version- then let the Malfoy's finally get their greedy paws on the entirety of the Black estate. It's been one of Abraxes' dreams for years- he keeps sending me a marriage contract for you and Draco."

Lyra didn't even bother keeping the look of contemptuous disgust from her face.

"Good, you have some sense. The only good thing your father ever did was introduce new blood into the line. I'd prefer it if you married a halfblood- someone that's distantly or not at all related to this family to clean it up a bit. Don't marry a muggleborn though, they don't fit well in this family."

Lyra's great grandfather spent the next hour and a half lecturing about the greatness of the Black family and began quizzing her on the history- which was actually part history and part Grimoire, before he finally let her go with a very long list of book on laws, politics, and investment strategies. Resigned, Lyra began a letter to Flourish and Blotts to ask about the cost. She had nearly finished when Aunt Cassiopeia loomed over her shoulder, and snatched the list from her hand.

"Dull reading" she cackled. "My dear cousin is finally going to break that wretched entailment. If Cygnus is still arrive he'll have a fit. My nephew has always been prone to them- almost as much as Walburga was. I'll pick these up for you tomorrow- I'm stopping at Flourish and Blotts anyway. And tomorrow, I will begin teaching you the proper way to duel, as I doubt they've gotten to that yet at Hogwarts." Aunt Cassiopeia patted Lyra on the head, and she wondered how much danger she would be in if Aunt Cassiopeia was still alive when the entailment broke.

* * *

Harry was enjoying his first ever Hogwarts Christmas- and perhaps the first Christmas he could remember enjoying. The Great Hall, with its cheery Christmas decorations, was exactly where he wanted to be for dinner, with its abundant food and wizarding crackers. It was very amusing to watch the Professors drink themselves silly, and it was a relief that Professor Snape was absent. The Weasleys were interesting to observe as a family, and they all appeared to be wearing homemade sweaters- the twins had forced their brothers to wear them.

Despite the fact Harry was in Slytherin house, the Weasley twins were perfectly friendly to Harry, who was polite in return. Ron, however, would sneer and make some rather nasty comment about 'slimy Slytherins', which Harry chose to ignore.

Receiving his first ever pile of presents had been quite the experience for Harry, who chose to carefully unwrap the presents instead of tearing into them like he had always seen Dudley do. The pile was small, but nice after so many Christmases with nothing. The invisibility cloak made his mind whirl with possibilities.

* * *

By the time Christmas came around, Lyra was ready to go back to Hogwarts. Arcturus was rather insistent that she begin learning all the intricacies of the Black family and what headship of such a family would entail. In her moments of free time Aunt Cassiopeia taught her about dueling, and that being good at magic was more than just dueling. It was fascinating, but very stressful since she was motivated not to fail with a well-placed Cruciatus- and she tried her very best to be perfect since her Aunt would sometimes lose track of time as she cast the spell.

On Christmas Eve Lyra was left alone. She was very glad that she did not have to join her family at the Malfoy family Christmas party, which inevitably would have been long and tedious. Instead she began penning some letters after putting the finishing touches on her homework.

Christmas morning was a quiet affair. Lyra quietly opened her presents as her great grandfather and aunt both slept off hangovers from the party, and she finished up her letters with the required thank you's.

It came a surprise to both her and her Aunt Cassiopeia when Arcturus did not come down for Christmas dinner. It was with extreme unease that Lyra went up to see him. He was paler than she had ever seen him.

"Could he have been poisoned at the party?" Lyra asked her aunt. Cassiopeia shook her head.

"He drinks his own liquor- Cygnus did try to poison him at a party one time when they were much younger, and he's been careful since then. I'll fire-call for a healer, but I'm not sure I'll get one on Christmas day." she said.

 _Arcturus looks old_ , was Lyra's thought as she watched him take rattling breaths.

A healer finally came, sending Lyra out as he took a look at him.

"It's not poison" he announced, but continued on grimly: "It's a mixture of stress and bad choices- years of alcoholism and politics would do this to anyone. Send for whoever needs to be here, because he'll be dead within the week. There's nothing I can do for him 'cept maybe make him comfortable." he finished telling Cassiopeia.

It took Regulus until almost the end of that week to arrive back from Egypt. He was at his grandfather's bedside at the end of his life.

"You must protect your daughter Regulus" he managed to rattle out. "She is the future of this family, since you have chosen not to be."

"I will _always_ protect my daughter." he replied angrily. "She is all that I have."

"Then stop running across the world. It is here in her life that you are needed" said Arcturus.

Regulus may have made an angry retort, but his grandfather began to seize and the healer shoved him out of the room. His death was not quick, or painless. Regulus muttered to Sirius that Arcturus did not deserve to go without a bit of pain at the funeral. Lyra gave her father a reproachful look in response, and the rest of the funeral proceeded in silence.

"And to the Earth your body shall return, though your spirit shall return to the stars." the funeral officiator finished as the last of Arcturus' grave was covered.

Cygnus didn't even wait for the customary moment of silence before apparating away from the family cemetery. The will was to be read almost directly after at Gringotts. Regulus apparated Lyra and himself to Gringotts.

The will reading was well attended by the family- Sirius, Regulus, Cassiopeia, Cygnus, the Malfoys, and some more distant members of the family who had married into other families but were curious about the outcome.

It did not come as a surprise that almost everything was left directly to Regulus. Cygnus scowled, but Regulus was in the direct line and he was not. The broken entailment resulted in him having a tantrum- a tantrum with direct spell fire cast at other members of the family somewhat indiscriminately until finally Aunt Cassiopeia cast a blood-boiling curse at him and the Auror's were called. Regulus had shoved Lyra behind himself for safety.

It was Abraxes Malfoy who made the callous comment- "I don't suppose we could just have his funeral now since everyone that might attend is already here."

Narcissa threw her father-in-law an icy look that kept him from going on. Aunt Cassiopeia let out a cackle. She showed no shame at killing her nephew.

"Perhaps we ought to- or not, as prolonging family gatherings seems to inevitably lead to more deaths, and there's few enough of us as it is." she said.

After a few statements, and an examiner looked at Cygnus' body (which was not a pretty sight), the Auror's took Cassiopeia away to await trial. Regulus promised her to get a good lawyer, but she waved it away.

"I am perfectly capable of defending myself, as I always have" was her response.

Draco finally crawled out from his hiding space as the Auror's took Cassiopeia away, looking terrified as he met Lyra calm grey eyes.

Before the Blacks dispersed from Gringotts Sirius passed Lyra a letter and a small package. She sent him a questioning look.

"For Harry" he muttered, looking a bit haunted. "Dumbledore's been stopping me from getting into contact with him."

Lyra nodded in understanding. "He should know that someone cares for him besides those dreadful relatives of his." she said. "I'll pass this along when I go back tomorrow."

"Thank you." Sirius said, briefly touching her shoulder.


End file.
